


letters from her

by JadeJem



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Blind Lovebirds, Cute, F/M, Love, Miraculous Ladybug - Freeform, Miraculous Ladybug Love Square, Normal AU, love square, miraculous ladybug season 2, no superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 18:44:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12636957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeJem/pseuds/JadeJem
Summary: In which Adrien receives anonymous letters from a girl who goes by 'Ladybug' and begins feeling things he never knew he'd feel for a girl he's never met.





	1. It Started With a Letter

**Author's Note:**

> Short-story fic with a long last chapter! This is a Normal AU, AKA no superheroes. :(
> 
> Enjoy. ;)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Marinette writes the truth and delivers it.

**• • •**

  
**_Dear Adrien,_ **  
**_Hi. You don't know me very well. You're probably never going to see this because of all the fangirl mail you get... ~~This is actually probably classified as fangirl mail...~~ But anyways, I just thought you should know a couple of things._ **

**_I will be writing you letters as often as I can when I feel like it. I don't expect you to read them, nor do I expect you to care. It's okay, really. These letters are more for me than they are for you, if I'm being totally honest._ **

**_You know, before I started writing, the funniest thing happened. I was thinking about what I should say, or how I should start this letter, when a ladybug flew in through my open window and landed on this piece of parchment. Ladybugs are a sign of good luck, or so I've been told. In fact, that ladybug gave me the confidence to write this in the first place._ **

**_I will be signing every letter with the name 'Ladybug.' Like I said, I don't care if you read any of these letters ~~(okay, so I do care)~~ because they're for my benefit._ **

**_In a majority of my letters, I will reveal a reason. "A reason for what?" you might ask. That's for me to know, and you to figure out. But don't worry, because my last letter_ ** **_to you_ ** **_will explain everything_ **

**_Your kindness._ **

**_I remember when we first met. That was a dreadful day. My luck was more rotten than usual, and I was pretty mean to you. I regret that now_ ** **_,_ ** **_because you probably dislike me, but just know that I could never dislike you again. Even though I was rude to you, you were still kind to me, and that's something I'll never forget, mind you. ~~You're very special to me.~~_ **

**_Well, that's all for now I guess._ **

**_Xoxo, Ladybug._ **

  
**• • •**

 

A hum of satisfaction vibrates through her chest, sending pleasant shivers down her spine. She sets her ink pen down with a smile and admires her handiwork. _'Yeah,'_ she thinks. _'This is good.'_

She stands from her desk and slips on a pair of fluffy brown boots. The trapdoor in the floor is heavy, but she manages to pull it up easily enough. A sudden thought hits her like a freight train, and she face-palms.  _I have to put the letter in an envelop_ _e_ _._

Her porcelain hands graze the drawers of her desk, pulling one open every few seconds and looking through it before moving on to the next. Eventually, she pulls out a crisp, white envelope with a triumphant smile.  _Perfect._ Almost as if it's glass, she folds up the letter very delicately, afraid to tear or fray the parchment. She slips it into the envelope and reaches for a sticker to seal it.  _'_ _A heart,'_  she thinks.  _'_ _How ironic.'_ She scrawls his name across the front with a smile.

Fifteen minutes later, she finds herself standing outside of the front gates of the Agreste mansion. "Don't be nervous," she chides herself. "Just... ask to deliver the letter anonymously."

Her midnight hair, only restrained by two ribbons, whips viciously in the icy winter wind. She grips her sides and shivers.

Finally, for fear of freezing to death, she musters up the needed courage and rings the doorbell. A section of the wall about eight feet off the ground slides away, and a camera with a long neck pokes its head out and stares down at her. "Yes?" the voice of a woman, no older than 30, echoes from the speaker next to the doorbell.

The flushed girl clears her throat before saying, "Yes, uh, h-hi. I'd just like to drop this off"—she holds the envelope up—"for Adrien."

"In here, please," the woman issues dully, as if this sort of thing happens often. Of course, this does nothing for the freezing girl's confidence. Another section of the wall suddenly falls forward and reveals what looks to be a dropbox of sorts. The midnight-haired girl looks uncertainly from the camera to the dropbox before hesitantly dropping her letter into the container. It closes abruptly, leaving the girl alone without the comfort her letter had provided previously. "Thank you." The camera tucks itself back into the pocket in the wall, and the metal slides itself back over it.

The girl shrugs, stuffs her hands in her winter coat's pockets, and walks away, the snow crunching beneath her feet as she goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leaving kudos encourages me to work faster. :)
> 
> Xoxo, J.


	2. Hooked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Adrien discovers a letter different from the rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, loves. Here's chapter 2!
> 
> Enjoy. ;)

His eyes skim over the parchment. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Usually, Adrien finds that he doesn't have the energy to read through mail from his 'fans,' but this particular envelope had caught his attention. It was simple. There was nothing extravagant about it, nothing over the top. Ordinary.

And it had gotten him reading.

Her message is stated clearly, but at the same time, he feels her need to be heard rolling off in waves with the words she had chosen when writing the letter gripped tightly in his calloused fingers.

It isn't his everyday fan mail. Oh, no. This... something about this is very different. This girl,  _Ladybug_ , seems to _know_ him.

Intrigued is an understatement.  _Enthralled_  is a better word to use.

Adrien finds himself staring out the window, as if another letter will suddenly come flying in with the whipping wind.  _'_ _Calm down,'_  he tells himself internally.  _'_ _It's just a letter.'_

A really well-written, thoughtful letter talking about his kindness. Yep. Completely normal for a girl to talk about something other than his looks and career.  _Not_.

_'It's got to be the mystery,'_ Adrien decides, running a hand through his already disheveled blonde hair.  _'_ _Why else would I be so curious and drawn in by such a plain letter?'_

It sure isn't because the i's are dotted with cute little hearts. Nope. Not at all.

He sighs and sets the parchment adorned with neat cursive down on top of the envelope with his name on it. The lamplight keeping his room alit in the darkness flickers, and Adrien reaches out and flips the switch on the lamp's base. The black of night descends, covering every isolated corner and gaping crevice. The only light provided is that of the moon.

And even that can't seem to keep Adrien from drifting off into a troubled sleep.

 

***   *   ***

 

**•  •  •**

  
**_Dear Adrien,_ **   
**_Good morning! How are you? Oh, wait, sorry. I guess you can't answer that. Well, I hope you had a good morning anyway. I know I just wrote to you yesterday, but I can't help myself!_ **

**_I know you're probably not reading this, but I just want to remind you that you make me smile whenever I see you in the halls. That reminds me! Have you heard about the masquerade ball being held by the Bourgeois family? I mean, I'm not really invited because Chloé absolutely despises me, ~~the brat,~~ but I'm going to go anyways. It's not like anyone will be able to recognize me with a mask on. I already have a couple of ideas for my dress._ **

**_Wait, sorry, I'm getting off topic._ **

**_Your forgiving smile._ **

**_I could probably run your dog over with a car, and you'd forgive me. Oh gosh, that does not sound right. ~~I wish I could erase that.~~ My point is—your forgiving smile tells me a thousand things about you. You've put up with more than you deserve and have had to fight your way through it. You've gotten used to forgiving people._ **

**_And that's beautiful._ **

**_That's all for now, I suppose. I hope to see you smile again soon. :)_ **

**_Xoxo, Ladybug._ **

  
**_•  •  •_ **

 

Adrien's cheeks flame, and a small smile touches his parted lips. His heart pounds roughly against his ribcage as he reads over her words.

**_And that's beautiful._ **

Beautiful? Yes, he has been called beautiful before.  _Innerly_  beautiful for having struggled through a tough year without his missing mother? Never.

He'd heard about Chloé's party just yesterday. The thought of going hadn't struck him as interesting the previous day, but Adrien finds himself devising a plan to ask Nathalie about making an appearance.

Adrien smiles and tucks the letter back into the envelope before gently putting it in his bag. He closes his locker and turns to head to homeroom.

_She sees me in the halls. I wonder who she could be...?_

Name after name flies through his head, but he rejects all of them.

_I need to know what she looks like._

No hints have been dropped in either letter so far. How on earth is he supposed to figure out who she is?

Maybe she doesn't want him to know.

Adrien frowns.

_Well now I want to know even more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leaving kudos encourages me to work faster. :)
> 
> Xoxo, J.


	3. The Diddly Darn Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Chloé is a bitch, and Marinette puts her in her place. Oh, and Mari finds out that Adrien is actually reading her letters.

Wide-eyed, she peers around the corner once more.

Yep. It's undeniable.

Adrien is holding her letter, and he's reading it.

_Reading it._

Her own messy font is easy to identify, for his name is scrawled across the front of the envelope resting in his other hand in her handwriting.

_He's reading my letter._

Cheeks scarlet, she whips her head around the corner and out of sight.

"He's reading my letter," she whispers, bluebell eyes inordinately wide. "I can't believe it..."

"Yo, Mari!" The bluenette startles and cranes her head around to see the owner of the voice.

A grin splits her face. "Alya!" The ombré smiles and bounds over to Mari.

"Hey, Marinette! What's up?" Alya comes to a heaving stop in front of the giddy girl. "You look almost  _too_ happy."

Marinette tiptoes in place with an expression of pure exuberance. "I am!" she squeals quietly, gripping her rosy cheeks and stopping her funky dance.

Alya cocks an eyebrow. "Um... mind explaining?"

And so, Marinette launches into a long story of debate, questions, brave moments, and the whole 'Ladybug' ordeal as the two walk to class.

"Fascinating," Alya says with an awestruck look on her face. "And he's read both letters?" She sits down in her usual seat, and Marinette slides into the seat next to her.

"Yes! Well, I think. I just saw him reading the one I put in his locker this morning. I have no idea how he found it with all the other mail he gets from his fans." She frowns as she tugs her bag onto the desk table from the floor.

_How had he picked mine out of everyone else's?_

Sure, she'd dropped off the first letter at his house, but tons of other girls do that, too. What had gotten him to look at hers?

Marinette glances up just as the bell rings. Adrien and Nino hurry into the room, both with large grins on their faces. With crimson cheeks, Marinette watches Adrien's blissful expression through the haze of rose glasses and hearts.

"Bonjour." Mademoiselle Bustier's brief and abrupt greeting jolts the blue-haired beauty back to reality.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle," the class responds in an almost monotonous chime.

Mademoiselle Bustier smiles at the fatigued students and nods. "Today we will be discussing an old play that is popular in America for its beautiful language and use of poetry." Mademoiselle Bustier yanks on the cord holding the screen covering the board. It slides up to reveal the words 'Romeo & Juliet.' Mademoiselle Bustier hits the whiteboard with a meter stick. "Romeo and Juliet," she states, circling the name with said meter stick. "One of the most tragic love stories in history."

Marinette's eyes begin to droop. How on earth is she supposed to survive this up and coming lecture?

"Usually, I would read excerpts from the book and draw out a character map for you on the board, but today, we will be partnering up and examining the text." Mademoiselle Bustier sends the class a crisp smile. "Copies of the play are on the back table," she says, pointing the meter stick towards the back of the classroom.

Marinette brightens at the thought of not having to sit through a lecture and instead being able to talk to Alya about the whole 'Ladybug' thing. She turns to see Alya exchanging a terrifying smile with Nino.

_Oh no._

"Welp. Sorry, Mari, but I'm partners with Nino," Alya drawls lazily, a smug smirk tugging at her already bemused lips.

"Adrikins!" Chloé's scream of enthusiasm has the three turning to see Adrien attempting to fight off the blonde. She continually throws herself at him, and he looks around in panic until his eyes lock with Marinette's. Desperation takes hold of his expression.

She blinks, and he turns his gaze back to Chloé. "Erm... Sorry, Chlo, but I'm—already partners with... Mari!"

Chloé immediately halts her advances. Her icy blue eyes snap to Marinette, and a sneer curls her lips. " _Her?_  Really? She literally looks like something I would find in my daddy's hotel dumpster. No wait—she's not classy enough for that."

Sabrina snorts from behind Chloé, and the sneer turns into a wicked smirk.

"Go away, Chloé." Marinette shoos the bratty blonde with yawn. "I don't want to put up with you today. I'm tired."

Chloé scoffs indignantly. "Tired from what? Your job, little bakery girl?" Her tone sounds threatening, but Marinette knows better.

"No," Marinette examines her nails before looking up at Chloé again, "I'm tired of you and that ugly attitude."

Nino claps a hand over his mouth, muffling the exclamation of _'OOH!'_ Alya cackles obnoxiously at the look of horror adorning Chloé's usually snooty expression. The rich girl opens and closes her mouth before huffing and stomping off.

Marinette's cheeks heat up as she feels half the class gaping at her, including Adrien. "S-so," she stutters awkwardly, getting to her feet while expertly avoiding Adrien's heavy gaze. "Let's, um, couple of grab a copies—I-I mean grab a couple of copies." Marinette internally curses herself for her lack of control over the words flying out of her mouth and shuffles towards the back of classroom.

Most of her classmates have already taken a seat, so maneuvering through the aisles isn't a problem for her. The remaining copies lay, splayed out erratically, across the back table. A couple of the poorly cared-for plays have tears running across their covers, and Marinette studiously avoids grabbing one of those. Eventually, she chooses two that look to be in decent enough shape, and she walks almost tediously back to her seat.

She sees that Adrien and Alya have switched places, and a maniac grin is curling Alya's lips. Marinette is tempted to shoot her a nasty glare, but decides against it when Adrien smiles warmly at her.

The class period flies by in a flurry of embarrassing remarks, stuttered apologies, and internal face-palming. Yes, Marinette finds herself more lax around Adrien towards the end of the period, but the first hour or so is insanely humiliating.

Before she knows it, Marinette is tossing her book bag at her bed and grabbing a new piece of blank parchment to write on.

 

**• • •**

  
**_Dear Adrien,_ **  
**_Wow! You'll never believe what I found out today! Chloé's a brat! Wait, we already knew that. My bad._ **  
**_What I really found out today ~~(that made me over-the-moon happy)~~ is that you've read my first couple of letters! I don't think you know how ecstatic ~~(and slightly embarrassed)~~ that makes me. Out of all your fan mail, you chose to read mine._ **

**_Even though Chloé really got on my nerves today, I still plan on attending the masquerade ball. I mean, who would pass that up? Plus, I already started making final sketches and looking at material for my dress. Because I'm predictable theme-wise, you might recognize me if you go. :)_ **

**_Your ability to turn my knees to jello._ **

**_Don't ask me how you do it, but you do. You've probably figured out how I feel about you from my letters, but in case you didn't know:_ **

**_I like you._ **

**_Like, really like you._ **

**_More than I should, I reckon. It's a little off-putting, but at the same time, I thoroughly enjoy feeling the way I do about you._ **

**_Okay, so I lied._ **

**_I don't like you._ **

**_I love you._ **

**_Xoxo, Ladybug._ **

  
**_•  •  •_ **

 

It's brash. It's blunt.

_It's the truth._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leaving kudos encourages me to work faster. :)
> 
> Xoxo, J.


	4. Screwed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Adrien obsesses over LB.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D

Adrien's heart halts in his chest. He rereads the most recent letter again. He hadn't expected to get another letter so soon, that makes it three days in a row, but he's not complaining.

He's come to look forward to Ladybug's letters. He's already become adept to picking her letter from the bunch. Her beautiful handwriting is scrawled into his memory permanently, and he'd recognize it anywhere.

His heart pounds roughly in his chest, and the feeling is painfully exhilarating. A flush colors his tanned cheeks, and a breathless sort of expression adorns his face.

The thought hits him like a freight train.

_I want to write back to her._

But how? Adrien knows nothing of this girl but her alias name, and her dislike for Chloé. And Chloé's dislike of her.

His locker door suddenly slams closed, and Adrien comes face to face with Alya. She looks from his face to the exposed letter clutched in his hand and smiles almost... wickedly?

"What's that you got there, Agreste?" The smirk on her face grows as Adrien feels his cheeks heating up further.

He scrambles to put the letter back into its envelope. "N-nothing," he stammers, fumbling with the seemingly impossible-to-open pocket that can hide his letter away.

Alya swipes the envelope out of his grasp, and Adrien gives a little gasp. She cocks an eyebrow and grins mischievously. "Adrien," she drawls in a mock dreamy voice, reading the name written in Ladybug's delicate cursive. "Is this a love letter?" The ombré steals the letter itself from Adrien's loose grip, and Adrien makes a grab for it only to miss. The significantly shorter girl skims though the contents of the letter. She eventually looks up at Adrien with a perplexed expression.

Adrien fidgets nervously. "U-um... it's a..." He struggles to look for a good excuse or something to cover up what it so obviously is, but gives up after searching for about 10 seconds. "I guess it is a love letter..." The thought makes him giddy for absolutely no reason, and he feels the sudden urge to run up to the school rooftops and shout it to the world.

_"Ladybug is in love with me!"_

Now, if he can just figure out who she is...

_The ball! Of course! I could look for her in the crowd! She dropped a hint about what she'd be wearing, so she shouldn't be too hard to spot... I just punned, didn't I?_

"Agreste!"

Adrien startles out of his stupor and blinks a couple of times before meeting a pair of hazel eyes. "Huh?"

Alya face-palms. "I just gave you the world's biggest hint and you weren't even listening..."

_Hint? Could she mean... No, she must be talking about something else... She can't know who Ladybug is... can she?_

The school bell reverberates off the hall walls obnoxiously just as Alya opens her mouth to speak again. She frowns and shrugs. Adrien hears her murmur something along the lines of, "Your loss, Adrien..."

He makes a move to call after her, but she rounds the corner and is now out of sight. Adrien relinquishes a sigh and trudges off to mathematics.

 

***  *  ***

 

_You can do it. Just ask her, Agreste._

Adrien swallows and slowly walks over to the girl that drives all possibilities of friendship away. Chloé Bourgeois was once a very nice girl. Sure, she was a little rough around the edges, but she had some kindness in her heart.

That's gone now.

He cringes before lifting his arm up and tapping her shoulder. She spins on her heel, a sneer curling her lips. Her eyes widen as she makes eye-contact with Adrien, and a pleased smile wipes her sneer away.

"Adrikins!" She makes a move to wrap her arms around his neck, maybe even kiss him, but Adrien steps back with a nervous smile.

"Hi, Chlo." He waves in a friendly manner while his internal voice screams at him to run away and never come back. "I have a question."

Chloé bats her heavily coated lashes and puckers her lipstick-coated lips. "Anything for you, Adrihoney."

_Where does she come up with these names?_

"Right—well, I was wondering when that masquerade ball you're hosting is...?" Adrien flinches, ready for the barrage of questions and compliments and suggestive looks.

A dramatic gasp has Adrien peeling an eye open to see Chloé's face, red with anger. "They didn't send you an invitation?!" The rage in her voice has Adrien taking another step back. She huffs and stomps her foot. "Oh, those pesky delivery guys! Can't even deliver a simple invitation!" She exhales and rubs her temple as if her life is one the hardest things in the world. "It's this Sunday, eight o'clock. The theme is animal masquerade—"

"Animal?" Adrien cuts her off with said question.

Chloé smiles sardonically. "Yep! The theme was chosen by moi."

"Okay... Thanks, Chloé," Adrien says slowly, carefully taking another step back.

A frown fixes Chloé's face. "That's it? That's all you wanted to talk about?" The disappointment is prominent in her voice, and Adrien feels a wave of guilt wash over him.

He nods solemnly. "Yeah... Sorry, I've got to go." He points at the limo parked in front of the school grounds in the near distance.

Chloé pouts for moment, then throws her arms around Adrien's neck. "Okay... Bye, Adrilove!" She attempts to kiss him on the cheek, but Adrien wriggles away just in time.

He waves, and, with that, departs.

_Alright. It's Wednesday. I have a few days to figure out a costume. I can work with that._

 

***  *  ***

 

Adrien nearly runs into three people as he rounds the corner of the school hallway. His locker comes in sight, and he grins.

The previous night, he had devised a plan to get to school super early to see who's been leaving the letters in his locker (AKA Operation Find LB). He figured he'd be able to see the handwriting on the envelope as mystery girl is delivering and, therefore, figure out who Ladybug is!

He arrives at his locker, slightly sweaty and completely out of breath. It takes a moment for him to remember his locker combination, and when he does, he opens his locker as quickly as possible.

A couple of letters flutter out of the locker, and Adrien swoops down to pick them up.

 _Just fan mail_.

He tosses them back into his locker before rummaging around a little. After three straight minutes of sifting through the mass of letters, he finally recognizes the neat cursive scrawled across the front of a perfectly white envelope. Adrien grins triumphantly and grabs it. Yes, this means that she's already come and gone, but a letter is a letter!

The model finds himself staring at his name, memorizing every little detail of the font, the written form of this Ladybug girl.

Sure, he may not know her, but her words speak lengths to him. Every inch of her is woven throughout each letter through words and admissions. She is the hidden message he reads between the lines.

And, honestly?

That's more than enough for him.

Adrien greedily (but carefully) opens the envelope, pulls out the piece of parchment, and begins reading.

 

**• • •**

  
**_Dear Adrien,_ **  
**_This may sound ridiculous, but I still can't get over the fact that you read my letters! I'm no writer, so I'm sorry if they seem a little bland. I'm going to try to be more poetic for you. Ah, see what you make me do? This is what I get for being crazy about you._ **

**_Anyway, I hope you can find it in your heart to accept that I'm not going to make myself easy to find at the masquerade_ ** **_ball_ ** **_. That is, if you're planning to go. I mean—you don't have to go because I'm going or anything. In fact, I didn't really want to go at first, but my parents are catering, so I'd have to go anyway. They said I didn't have to work though, which is really very kind of them._ **

**_I suppose you might be wondering who I am. I don't blame you. If some boy start_ ** **_ed_ ** **_leaving letters in my locker and confessing his love for me via handwriting because he_ ** **_'_ ** **_s too chicken to do it in person, I'd be wondering who he_ ** **_is_ ** **_too._ **

**_I'll tell you three things about me, then I'll move on to reason number 4._ **

**_#1: My favorite color is pink._ **  
**_#2: I go to your school._ **  
**_#3: My eyes are blue._ **

**_Your laugh._ **

**_Listening to your laugh is like hearing my favorite song; I want to keep replaying it over and over again. My toes curl at the sound of it, and my heart melts knowing that someone made you laugh like that. I remember the first time I heard you laugh. Surprisingly, I was the one who caused it. You don't laugh often, but I really think you should._ **

**_You make my day when you do._ **

**_Xoxo, Ladybug._ **

  
**_• • •_ **

 

Adrien's breathing comes out as little gasps, as if he's just run a marathon. His palms feel sweaty, and he rubs the hand not holding the letter on his jeans. His heart races at a nearly painful pace, but at the same time, it feels so...

_Good._

And at this moment, he realizes something.

_I'm screwed. Completely and utterly screwed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leaving kudos encourages me to work faster. :)
> 
> Xoxo, J.


	5. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which literally everything happens because this chapter is 8,000 words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the 8,000 word finale! Enjoy! ;)

The days run by in a blur; a very love-struck, unfocused blur. Paying attention in class on Thursday and Friday had been a chore for Adrien, and hardly any homework had gotten done at home.

Every minute. She occupied his mind every minute of both days. Friday had left him disappointed; not a letter in sight.

_Never fear, Agreste. You'll hunt her down on Sunday whether she likes it or not._

Adrien nods to himself in affirmation and turns to Becca. "I'm thinking black leather...?"

The African-French seamstress quirks an eyebrow, chocolate eyes sparkling in question. "A leather tuxedo?"

Adrien chomps on his bottom lip. "No. The tuxedo will be black. The mask needs to be leather. As do the cat ears." He nods again. "Yeah..."

Becca smirks in amusement. "What, and do you want a bell, too?"

Eyes sparking mischievously, Adrien's lips split into a smile. "A bell would be nice, yeah."

Becca snorts, taking out her tape measurer. "All right, cowboy. Let's get you gussied up."

"Sounds purrfect."

 

***   *   ***

 

What's sleep?

Adrien has been internally repeating this same question all morning, for he had gotten none of it the previous night.

When Becca had finished gathering all of the information needed to make Adrien's costume, she had gone home with the promise of it being in Adrien's closet before 8:00 PM. It is currently 2:43 PM, and Adrien finds himself freaking out.

_What if Ladybug isn't dressed as her namesake? What if I mistake her for some other blue-eyed girl dressed in the ladybug theme? What if she doesn't like my theme choice? What if... No! Chill, Agreste. You're cool._

"You're cool," Adrien repeats out loud, if a bit breathless. "You're cool." He lets out an exasperated sigh and parks his behind on his large mattress, head in hands.

His phone buzzes suddenly, and he jumps before looking down at it. Nino's name flashes across the screen.

**_Nino: we still on for lunch downtown @ 3?_ **

Adrien checks the clock again before hastily typing a response.

_Adrien: I'll be there._

 

***   *   ***

 

"Why am I only hearing about this girl now?"

Adrien fidgets. "Well, it feels really personal, and I just didn't know how you'd react..."

Nino sighs and massages the bridge of his nose. "Why does it matter how I'd react? This is your girl, isn't it? I'm not one to judge."

Adrien opens his mouth to counter, then ultimately snaps it shut. He puffs his cheeks in a pout and looks out the window. Rain decorates the streets and restaurant window, shining in the hazy glow from the sun trying to push the clouds out of the way. The restaurant buzzes with mumbled activity and the clinking of forks on plates. Not a formal restaurant, exactly, just a little diner that's seemingly far too popular. The booth Adrien and Nino are occupying is less than nice; the ugly burgundy red clashing with the modern wood nicely. Nevertheless, the cushion is plush and comfortable. The neon sign hanging above their booth flashes blue and red, struggling to be seen in the grey of the mist-filled afternoon.

 _'It's rained a lot lately,'_ Adrien notes thoughtfully, nibbling idly on the end of his straw. Winter is fast approaching, he supposes.

"So... how are you planning to figure out who she is?" Nino queries, breaking silence and bringing Adrien out of his reverie.

Adrien bites the inside of his cheek before carefully replying: "I'm... not exactly sure." Nino raises his eyebrows. "But!" Adrien adds quickly. "The plan is to see if someone fits her description and dresses as her namesake, and I'll go from there."

Nino nods slowly. "And... what if you don't see someone like that?"

"I have to find her," Adrien insists with a frown. "I think she wants me to find her, otherwise she wouldn't have told me that she'd be at Chloé's ball."

"That's probably true," Nino concedes. "But you could mistake her for any other girl."

Adrien nods solemnly. "I know, but I feel like... I don't know. I feel like I'll just...  _know_ , you know?" At Nino's perplexed look, Adrien shakes his head. "Never mind. I'm not sure how to explain this to you."

"Chocolate Strawberry Milkshake?" Adrien watches enviously as the waitress sets the milkshake down in front of Nino, whom is looking like Christmas has come early this year.

She smiles at Adrien before turning and making her leave. At the sound of a scoff, Adrien turns in time to witness Nino rolling his eyes.

"What?" Adrien asks, cocking his head to the side.

"Nothing," Nino says dejectedly, taking a sip of the milkshake.

Adrien frowns. "Seriously, what?"

Nino shrugs and swallows. "It's just weird that you'd go after some mystery girl when you could literally have any girl in France."

The slight blush that races across Adrien's cheeks causes his frown to morph into a scowl. "I don't want any girl in France. I want this one. She's..." Adrien pauses before smiling. "...different."

"But what if she's not?" Nino challenges, concern lacing his voice as his brow puckers.

"She is, okay?" Adrien states harshly, standing from the booth and stepping out into the aisle. "Thanks for supporting me," he says coldly, sarcasm hinting into his tone. And with that, he stomps off into the freezing rain.

 

***   *   ***

 

 _'Having ditched the car may not have been a smart move,'_ Adrien admits to himself as he continues walking through the downpour.

People hiding under the overhangs of nearby buildings or peering through shop windows throw Adrien astonished looks that he doesn't bother to meet. So what? It's just rain. It's not like he's some famous superhero vaulting through the city or something. Nothing to see here.

It's when Adrien's ears start to numb, and when he has to clutch his drenched arms to keep himself warm that he begins to worry a little. He rounds the corner of his familiar high school and decides it's time to at least get cover until the rain lightens up.

He hurries up the slippery steps, keen on getting out of the freezing downpour as soon as possible. The wind howls, and the rain continues pounding relentlessly on his back and head. After what feels like years, Adrien finally reaches the entrance and rounds a corner. The feeling of the rain still beating him remains, ghosting him with tingly and numb vibrations. He slides down the paint-slathered brick wall until his butt hits the hard floor.

"Well," he sighs, "now I wait."

 

***   *   ***

 

Adrien hadn't thought that falling asleep was even a remote possibility.

Boy, was he wrong.

A warm hand gently shakes Adrien awake, and he jolts himself out of his dream. "Huh? What?" he mutters stupidly, blinking a couple of times before rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

His eyes land on a familiar set of radiant blue eyes. He almost gasps, having to blink once more before the rest of her face strikes a chord in him.

"Marinette," he says, if a bit breathlessly.

She blushes faintly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Hey," she responds, looking around anxiously. "W-what are you doing here?"

Embarrassment is the first emotion that steam-rolls him. Second is amusement. He chuckles, patting the space next to him on the ground. "I could ask you the same thing."

Marinette looks from the spot Adrien had indicated to Adrien himself, eyes wide. After a moment or so, she takes it upon herself to take a seat next to him, fumbling a bit with her bag before sliding down into the spot.

"E-every Sunday, the school rents out a room to a designer. The designer holds a class that we have to pay for." Marinette's cerulean-blue eyes sparkle as she meets Adrien's gaze. "But it's completely worth it. She teaches us so many things."

Adrien blinks, astonished. Marinette has never been able to engage in a full conversation before without dropping something or running away. Okay, excluding that one time where he was supporting her and her uncle when he was visiting from China and was on that cooking show with the judges.

Marinette's cheeks suddenly heat up, and she hastily looks away from Adrien. "A-anyway, what about you? W-what brings y-you here on a Sunday?"

"Oh." Adrien scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "I just... got caught in the rain." Not a technical lie.

Marinette nods, understanding touching her expression. She peers around before looking back at him. "Um... D-do you have a ride?"

"Yes," Adrien lies instinctively, trying to avoid further embarrassment. "Gorilla's right around the corner."

Marinette sends him a deadpanned expression. "Then why are you taking cover here when you have a nice, cozy limo waiting for you just around the corner?"

Adrien raises a finger, a rebuttal prepared to jump off his tongue... before ultimately closing his mouth as his finger curls in on itself. He crumples. "You got me."

With a look of both triumph and a touch of pity, Marinette hesitantly reaches out and touches his shoulder. "Need a ride? I have a feeling you'll be going to that big ball held at Le Grand Paris."

"Yeah," Adrien says brightly. "Are you going, too?"

Marinette's soft smile falters before her cheeks warm. She looks away from him, a smirk playing at her lips. "Mm," she hums. "Maybe."

Adrien cocks his head a frowns, confused by her sudden change in behavior. Her cerulean-blue eyes sparkle mysteriously when she meets his gaze.

"My papa can drive you home in the delivery truck," she says more than offers, pushing herself off of the marble floor. She extends a hand towards him. "He needs to run a few errands anyways."

Adrien looks between her hand and her warm smile, and something in his chest flutters ever so slightly. Unable to say anything, he merely accepts her extended hand and allows her to pull him up.

"Oh!" she exclaims suddenly. "I almsot forgot!" She digs around her bag before pulling out a folded black umbrella. Marinette doesn't seem to notice Adrien gaping at her like a fish out of water as she opens the umbrella. She finally meets his astounded gaze and smiles. "I believe this is yours," she says gently, holding the umbrella out for him to take with a hint of a smile.

Adrien stares.

And stares.

And stares...

Thunder rumbles and shakes the grey sky overhead viciously. He blinks in astonishment before hesitantly reaching out. His fingers scrape against hers, and electricity spikes in his chest, causing the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck to stand on end. Once he finally holds the umbrella in his grasp, he nearly drops it.

Adrien's pulse hammers uncontrollably, and his tongue turns to sandpaper.

 _'Say something!'_  he shouts internally, blinking stupidly.  _'Literally anything!'_

"You have pretty eyes," he blurts randomly, truth and raw dumbstruck stupidity dripping from his words.

Marinette's smile turns into a furious blush that stains her cheeks so dark scarlet, Adrien begins to think that she might faint.

"I mean!" he shouts, jumping like someone lit a fire under his derrière. "I-I mean...! You have pretty thighs!" Utter horror and humiliation rage and roar like a wildfire within Adrien as hot blood pools into his cheeks. "NO! NO, THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEAN! I DON'T LOOK AT YOUR THIGHS OR ANYTHING...! NOT THAT THEY AREN'T NICE, BECAUSE THEY ARE! I—" Adrien groans and leans the umbrella against the wall before furiously scrubbing his eyes and dragging his hands down his cheeks. "—am a total loser."

He cracks an eye open to gauge her reaction. Marinette giggles quietly, the red in her cheeks fading slightly as she covers her mouth with the back of her hand.

Adrien flails in indignation. "Don't laugh at me!" he sputters, finally choosing to cross his arms and huff.

Marinette only giggles harder. Adrien twiddles his thumbs, embarrassment being only one of the many emotions whacking him over the head as Marinette continues laughing. Her small fit of hysteria comes to a slow end, and she exhales with a final chuckle.

"You done now?" Adrien deadpans, voice devoid of anything that might hint at the pit of fire roaring in his stomach.

Marinette peers up at him through her thick eyelashes, cerulean-blue eyes twinkling in amusement. "You remind me of me," she says finally, motioning for him to grab the umbrella.

"You're not  _that_  bad," Adrien tries, unsuccessfully playing off the tremor in his voice that indicates his statement to be untrue as he grabs the umbrella and opens it.

"I was," Marinette says with a small smile, ducking under the umbrella as Adrien holds it out far enough for her to join him.

Adrien swivels to face her and raises an eyebrow. "What changed?"

Marinette looks back at him, smiles, and adjusts the bag strap on her shoulder. "I did."

Snorting, Adrien begins trudging down the rain-soaked steps, making sure that Marinette keeps pace with him under the umbrella. "Vague much?"

She giggles. "A little."

"Seriously," Adrien says, unable to pinch his curiosity. "What changed?"

For a moment, the only thing Adrien hears is the sound of their shoes splashing through the puddles. Then, she finally says: "I got braver. Took a couple of risks... and was honest."

The rusting bell above the boulangerie door chimes sharply as Adrien pushes it open, not thinking twice about holding the door for Marinette. She nods her thanks as she passes by him, her shoulder brushing his.

Little tingles wiggle through Adrien's body, and he shivers before shutting the umbrella and leaning it against the counter inside the foyer. The air smells faintly of croissants and chocolate, and Adrien takes a moment to admire the intricate detail carved into the white-painted wooden panel running around the ceiling of the small space. His eyes fall upon the crisp white door leading to what Adrien presumes to be the actual bakery itself. A small, lavender sign hangs from a single nail drilled into the door, reading in white, curly letters: ' _Bon Appetit!'_

"Honest, huh?" he queries, finding himself chasing her up the stairs behind the front counter leading to her home.

"Mhm," Marinette hums, halting in the thin doorway and peering around her cosy living room and kitchen for her parents. "They must be out right now."

Adrien leans over the back of her couch and picks up a pink, plush throw-pillow. "Homey," he murmurs, giving it one final squeeze before tossing it back on to the soft beige couch. Adrien is tempted to make a grab for the too-fluffy looking blanket tossed over the side of it, but is distracted by the sound of glasses clinking. He turns, his eyes landing on Marinette just as she sets the glasses down on the counter.

"Thirsty?" she queries, the hint of a smirk pulling at the corners of her lips.

"Parched," Adrien responds with a firm nod, a slight teasing lilt present in his tone. He waltzes over to the glass counter and takes a seat on one of the two stools perched before it. Marinette's lips twitch as she opens one of the bright blue fridge doors and begins pulling out multiple fruits: a pineapple, peaches, a mango, and strawberries. She lets the fridge door fall closed and glides over to the far side of the petite kitchen. Her hand hovers over multiple random condiments resting on the counter next to the shiny metal toaster distorting her dainty little fingers as she makes a small "Ah" and picks up a tiny bottle labeled: 'Agave'.

Adrien watches curiously as she pops off the cap of the blender residing next to the toaster. She snaps her fingers, as if having just remembered something, and opens the freezer door of the blue fridge. She pulls out a canister—the ice box, Adrien realizes—and rummages around it. Finally satisfied, she removes her hand, which is now full of ice cubes. The ice box gets shoved back into place as she pushes the freezer door shut with her foot and tosses the ice cubes into the blender at the same time.

Her fingers tiptoe across the counter and swipe up the fruit. In record time, she grabs a knife and chops off the tops of at least 5 strawberries, cores the pineapple, cuts up two peaches, and minces the mango. Her knife scales the pineapple, and Adrien finds himself rapt as he watches her work. She pushes half of the pineapple into a container and dumps everything else on the cutting board into the blender. Before shutting the lid, she makes sure to dump a good teaspoon of that Agave stuff into the blender. She clicks a couple of buttons, and the machine whirls to life, slowly chomping the fruit into slush.

Marinette whistles a merry tune, closes the container holding the pineapple she didn't use, and tosses it into the fridge. She claps her hands together and whirls to face Adrien with a grin just as the blender stops. She grabs the blender and pulls it effortlessly,  _smoothly_ , across the counter. It stops just in front of the two glasses, and she removes the top of the blender before pouring rations of pink smoothie into each glass. When she finishes, she clicks the cap back into place and slides it back across the counter.

"Smoothie?" she asks smugly, pushing one of the glasses towards Adrien. He catches it right before it goes flying off the counter. He takes the smoothie with a small smirk before glancing at her with a smoldering look.

"Don't mind if I do."

 

***   *   ***

 

At around 6:30, Marinette's parents return home to find Adrien and Marinette curled up on the couch, watching 'The Kingsman' with french titles running at the bottom.

"Look at him!" Marinette splutters, gesturing wildly at the very attractive Eggsy (the main character) clad in his suit and tie. "He is SO ATTRACTIVE!"

"I don't see it," Adrien says with a stiff shrug, watching bitterly as the very handsome man takes out a hallway lined with evil soldiers in white suits. "All they did was put him in a suit and comb his hair back."

Marinette holds her hands up in surrender and whistles when Eggsy begins to speak again. "His accent is hoooot," she drawls, blinking her eyes dreamily at the TV screen as Eggsy spews some line in an admittedly sexy English accent.

Adrien clamps down on the desire to learn how to do an English accent, and instead rolls his eyes.

"Marinette?" Tom's voice bellows from downstairs, a friendly note in his voice. "We're home!"

"Papa!" Marinette shouts, pausing the movie and jumping over the couch to greet her father just as he walks through the doorway. His massive figure completely obscures his wife until she steps out from behind him.

She offers Adrien a kind smile as Tom envelopes Marinette in a hug. "Adrien, dear, it's nice to see you," she greets warmly, opening her arms to him for a hug. Adrien stands and walks around the couch to receive Sabine's motherly hug, dwarfing her by almost a foot.

"You too, Madame Cheng," he replies politely, so unwilling to step out of the mother-like contact, but doing so out of respect.

"Sabine will do, dear," she says sweetly, smiling widely at a very flushed Marinette, whose father pulls away from her.

"Adrien!" Tom booms, swooping down and picking him up into a bone-crushing hug. "How are you, son?"

Adrien raises a shaky thumbs-up. "Doing fine, Monsieur Dupain," he breathes (chokes) out, patting Tom on the back lightly.

"Oh, Tom's fine," Tom insists, finally setting Adrien back on the sweet, sweet ground.

"Papa!" Marinette hisses, smiling too widely to be natural and speaking through gritted teeth. "Let's not crush him!"

Adrien chuckles nervously, his hand going back to scratch the nape of his neck—a bad habit. "It's fine, Marinette." He almost doesn't notice the way he sounds when he says her name; breathlessly, warmly, dreamily.

_Ladybug who?_

Tom and Sabine exchange raised eyebrows and smirks before Sabine comes up behind Adrien. Her tiny hand rests at the foot of his back. "Adrien, honey, would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Maman, no," Marinette whispers. "I have that  _thing_ tonight." She clearly attempts to be quiet, but Adrien catches every word anyway.

He grins triumphantly, a euphoric feeling settling in his chest. "So you  _are_ going to the ball at Le Grand Paris?" Adrien asks, though he's sure he knows the answer.

By the 'deer caught in headlights' look on Marinette's face, Adrien almost whoops. "Yes! Okay, where's your dress? I want to see it!"

Marinette makes many attempts to form words, but is unable to get any of them out of her mouth. Finally,  _desperately_ , she glances at the aged clock on the wall.

"I would, buuuut oh, look at the time! Papa has to take you home now! Bye!" She spins Adrien around and begins pushing him towards the door.

"Wait," Adrien laughs, turning back around to face her. "Don't you want to go with me?"

Silence settles in the air between the two. Adrien's implications cause blood to rush to his cheeks, his eyes widening as he watches Marinette flush absolutely  _scarlet._

And for some reason, Adrien doesn't try to take back the words a rephrase them.

The cooing of Marinette's parents is bad enough, but making another slip-up that sounds horribly inappropriate in front of them is definitely not on his 'to-do' list.

Besides, it's not like he would  _mind_  going with Marinette...

She blinks her big blue eyes at him, the blush finally settling into a warm rose color.

Finally, she utters to the ground: "I can't. I... promised to meet somebody there."

Disappointment and hurt hit Adrien like a freight train. He teeters on his heels, nearly stumbling backwards to put space between them. Her words are like a splash of cold water, waking him up from the dream that has been this afternoon. Adrien bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from asking WHO and instead nods his head, trying to feign understanding.

"No, I get it. We'd only be going as friends, anyway." His words come out icier than he means them, and he makes a move for the door. "I can find my own way home. Goodbye Monsieur Dupain and Madame Cheng. Marinette." And without another glance back, he hurries out the door, embarrassment and foolishness crashing together in his thrashing heart.

 

***   *   ***

 

"You look sharp, Monsieur Agreste."

Adrien slips the black-leather mask onto his face. The shape is soft, and remains perched on the bridge of his nose. "Monsieur Agreste is my father. Just call me Adrien, please."

Becca shrugs before stepping back. "Well, it looks good. Extend your arms for me? Good. Stretch? Nice. Anything too tight?" Adrien shakes his head. "Good. Very good." She rolls up her extendable tape measure. "Oh!" she chirps suddenly, approaching him quickly and examining him with narrowed eyes. She cocks her hip before snapping her fingers. "That's what's off." She reaches forward and tousles Adrien's well-kept hair. Becca steps and admires her work. "Much better."

She turns Adrien towards the full-length mirror, and Adrien runs a hand through his wild hair, avoiding the leather cat ears as a slow grin spreads across his lips.

Becca flicks his bell.

"I think you're ready."

 

***   *   ***

 

The car slows to a stop in front of Le Grand Paris. He vaguely hears the sound of classical music playing in the distance. Instead of waiting for Gorilla to open the door for him, Adrien throws it open himself and steps out, adjusting his black tie. He pushes the door closed with the toe of his very nice shoes (reminding him eerily of The Kingsman).

He seriously considers combing his hair back and investing in high-tech glasses for a straight minute before shaking his head and strolling up to a man with a clipboard.

"Name?" the man in a suit and sunglasses drawls monotonously.

"Chat Noir," Adrien replies smoothly, leaning against the door with a raised brow.

The man eyes him for a moment before scribbling something down. "Welcome."

Adrien nods at him before letting himself inside. The classical music rings louder than before as he steps into the foyer crowded with bodies clad in multiple colors of attire. Almost immediately, Adrien finds himself getting yanked on to the dance floor by a pretty girl in an orange and white dress, long fox ears perched on her head. Her mid-length, wavy brown hair is dyed red and white at the tips, held only by a single hair-tie.

"Um—good evening," Adrien greets, spinning the oddly familiar girl.

She sends him a strange look. "Don't you recognize me?" she queries expectantly, raising an eyebrow behind her mask.

"Um..."

She suddenly reaches forward and ruffles his hair. "Rena Rouge—AKA Alya, Agreste," she murmurs. "Your hair is so used to being perfect, that it was swept back into place and I was able to recognize you immediately."

"Alya?" Adrien sputters, spinning her in time to the music.

"Shh!" she hisses. "It's Rena Rouge! Or—Rena, I guess. I'm here to help you get the girl."

Adrien cocks an eyebrow, an amused smile curling his lips. "Playing match-maker?"

She grins cheekily. "I guess you could say that. Thing is—I know what I'm looking for."

"You do?!" Adrien whisper-shouts, pulling her up from a dip much too soon.

"Mhm," Rena hums, peering over his shoulder at the door. "But something tells me that you'll be able to tell who she is the moment she walks through the door."

The dim lighting turns a rose-gold color as the ballad ends. Adrien bows and nods at Rena. "You sure?"

"Positive."

A single spotlight appears on the balcony where the two velvet grand staircases meet. The rest of the vast room turns completely black, and Adrien nearly stumbles over someone as he takes a step forward. A pretty girl with icy blue eyes and long blonde hair pulled into a tight, braided ponytail steps into the light, a yellow and black mask adorning the area around her eyes and above the bridge of her nose. Her equally yellow and black dress clings to her like a second skin until it reaches her hips, where the skirt disbands loosely and pools around her feet.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she addresses the crowd confidently in slightly snooty french, "welcome to la nuit de la mascarade, or La Nuit des Roses." She pauses, and the room erupts into a polite applause. "I am your host, Queen B."

 _'Chloé,'_  Adrien realizes with a start.

"Let me explain how this works," she begins once more, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor of the balcony as her gloved hand trails along the railing slowly. "There will be dancing and a feast," she explains, stopping in her tread at the end of the balcony, the spotlight stopping with her. "At midnight"—she raises a single finger into the air—"the one you are dancing with will reveal themselves to you, and you to them. Introduce yourselves... unless you already know each other." Her eyes glimmer mischievously as she scans the hundreds of teenagers in the room.

She opens her mouth to continue speaking, when the door suddenly flies open with a BANG.

A girl comes running into the room, holding onto the gigantic skirts of her scarlet gown. She releases a breath, her gloved hand tucking part of her half-up half-down hair behind her ear. Her lips are scarlet, much like her gown, and they part in surprise as everyone stares at her. She blinks her big, cerulean-blue eyes... surrounded by a scarlet,  _spotted_  mask.

_Ladybug._

Splotches of black in the vague shapes of circles run down her gigantic ballgown, but after a second glance, the tightly-fitted, strapless torso with three black dots on either side draw almost too much attention to her obviously slim form. She shimmers under the light of the spotlight, which had redirected itself onto her when she had entered.

She brushes her bangs out of her eyes shyly and waves politely. "Sorry I'm late," she apologizes sheepishly, yet her confident stance doesn't shrink.

Adrien blinks stupidly at her.

_THAT'S her? THAT'S HER?! She's gorgeous! What on earth is she doing writing love letters to ME?! She could have any guy in Paris! In France, even..._

Adrien finds himself drawn to her, wanting to sweep down into a bow and then sweep her off her feet.

The booming sound of the microphone echoes across the room as Queen B taps on it. "Let the festivities begin." Is all she says when the spotlight continues to follow Ladybug around.

She seems relieved when the lights turn up into a rose-gold again, and the spotlight disappears. Adrien intends to approach her, but is shoved out of the way as AT LEAST five boys crowd her. He sighs.

 _'It's fine,'_ he reassures himself _, 'I can steal a dance later_. _'_

 

***   *   ***

 

Later is not soon enough.

Adrien watches the stunning girl being passed off to boy after boy on the dance floor, her beautiful, billowing skirts of scarlet not hard to miss. Jealousy whips its ugly head around and snickers at Adrien. His eye twitches.

Rena struts up and leans against the wall next to him, watching Ladybug as well. "Having fun?"

"Afraid so," Adrien says with a crisp nod, pursing his lips as Ladybug laughs at something some boy in a colorful blue and green suit spouts.

"Looks like it." She turns to face him and nods at the dance floor. "You going to try?"

Adrien scoffs. "Yes, because she totally wants to dance with  _me_."

Rena rolls her eyes. "Have you forgotten who she's in love with?"

Adrien's heart lurches into his throat. "How do you know that?"

"I'm not blind. She keeps glancing over here."

"Sh-she does?!" Adrien sputters, dumb-founded. He whips his head back towards her and catches her sparkling gaze. She grins at him. "Can she tell it's me?"

"No idea," Rena admits with a shrug. "Maybe she just thinks you're cute and is waiting for you to go up and ask her to dance."

"Really? You think?"

Rena hums, a smile curling her lips. "I believe so." She glances at him. "Go get 'er, tiger."

Adrien beams. "Thanks,  _Rena_."

She winks at him before strolling off. Adrien pushes himself off the wall and begins making his way to the dance floor. At the last second, however, he finds himself turning sharply towards the table with elegant-looking appetizers and drinks. He mentally scolds himself for being a chicken-shit as he looks at the drink options. Waiters and waitresses have been walking around the room offering drinks all evening, but Adrien hasn't been feeling thirsty until right before setting foot on the marbled checkered floor.

He picks up a glass labeled: 'Sunset'. He frowns and studies the contents of the pink drink before shrugging and taking a sip, shoving one hand into his pocket. He turns around to look for his assigned seat at one of the many tables scattered across the room and nearly runs someone over.

"Sorry," he apologizes automatically, feeling bad for not having seen the short girl. His eyes widen when she looks up at him and smiles.

"Good evening," she greets mysteriously, cerulean-blue eyes glimmering in delight, "Chat Noir."

"Is it that obvious?" he flirts after a moment, smirking and offering her his drink.

She takes it with a closed-lip smile. "You clean up well."

His smirk widens. "I could say the same to you, m'Lady."

Ladybug cocks an eyebrow behind her spotted mask. "Quite the flirt, aren't we?"

"You haven't seen the half of it yet," Adrien fires back, winking at her as she takes a drink from the glass before offering it back to him. He takes a long draw from it before setting it down, empty, onto a tray with other empty glasses. Adrien swoops into a bow. "May I have this dance?" he asks gently, offering her his gloved hand.

She fists her skirts in one gloved hand and curtsies before placing her fingers in his. "You may."

He escorts her to the dance floor, and they dance through a particularly long piece... and then another one... and then ANOTHER one... and you guys can probably assume that they dance the night away, right?

Mm, not quite.

But they do get to know each other better.

Ladybug covers her mouth and tries very hard not to laugh. "And what did you tell him?"

Adrien chuckles and spins her in pattern to the music, bringing her close before she twirls away. "I told him that ducky underwear wasn't gonna get him far in the real world."

Ladybug keels over for a moment, clutching her stomach and trying not to run in to someone. "You," she breathes, "did not."

"I," he holds his arm out for her to take, and she does, "most certainly did." He leads her to a nearby table.

She laughs quietly, leaning against an empty table. "Is this the part where you ditch me to look for the princess?"

Adrien holds a hand to his heart, affronted. "Why would a noble knight like me leave a lovely lady like you? What kind of knight would that make me?"

Ladybug shrugs. "Fair point."

Adrien eyes the little name tags in neat cursive on each plate. "Don't see my name here."

"Me neither," Ladybug says, her fingers brushing a name tag. "Could be anywhere at this rate."

"I'll help you find yours," Adrien volunteers, unwilling to let her go so soon.

Ladybug smiles shyly, reminding him of—

"That'd be great." She touches the inside of his wrist lightly and leads him in the direction of a neighboring table.

They spend the next 15 minutes exploring the largely transformed hotel lobby, searching for their name tags. Finally, they come across them at the same table.

"How lucky," Adrien mutters, blinking in surprise when Ladybug holds up her name tag not two seats from his at a white-clothed table.

"Well, luck  _is_ sort of my thing," she giggles, her cerulean-blue eyes twinkling under the rosette lighting of the makeshift ballroom.

Before Adrien has the chance to respond, the orchestra stops playing, and Chloé's voice fills the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen." She speaks gently into the microphone, so unlike her normal snooty tone. "The banquet will begin shortly. Please start making your way to your assigned seats."

Ladybug pulls out her chair and sits down, smiling when Aly—Rena takes the seat next to her. Adrien opens his mouth to say something when a boy in a green suit takes the seat on Rena's other side—next to Adrien. Adrien snaps his mouth shut.

The boy peers at him through an intricately designed mask of jade, sweeping a hand through his hair and smiling loosely at Adrien. "Carapace," he introduces himself, gruffly offering Adrien a hand.

"Chat Noir." Adrien blinks, taking his ungloved hand and shaking it. "Nice suit."

Carapace makes a show of brushing off the green velvet-like texture. "Thanks. Nice bell." His chocolate eyes glimmer in amusement.

"It really makes the whole look," Ladybug chimes from her seat, winking at Adrien.

He blushes, suddenly glad that his mask covers the majority of his face.

"I agree," Rena pitches in, grinning devilishly. "All he's missing are the claws."

"Meow," Carapace laughs with the girls, clapping Adrien on the back.

The chair on Adrien's other side is pulled out, and Queen B takes a seat. "What are we laughing at?" she queries, a friendly smile taking hold of her features.

_Well that's a new one._

"The lack of Chat Noir's bow tie."

"What's wrong with a regular tie?"

"Stop picking on the poor guy, LB."

"But that's the best part!"

"Thanks, Rena."

As the banquet courses come one after another, the five seated at one of the center-most tables laugh, talk, and share stories with one another. Adrien practically basks in Ladybug's attention, trying to ignore the feeling of familiarity screaming that HE KNOWS THIS GIRL.

"Look," Ladybug covers her mouth as she giggles, "all I'm saying is you've gotta go for it, Cara. You'll never know how she feels if you don't."

Carapace lets his hands slide down his face dramatically. "But she's so intimidating! And beautiful, and sassy, and spunky, and determined, and—"

"Dear god," Queen B cuts him off irritably, "just ask her out already!"

"Preach."

"True."

"Thank you."

Carapace leans against the stem of his chair and sinks down, mumbling incoherently with a scowl etched onto his face.

"And if she doesn't like you," Rena adds, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, "then that's her loss."

Ladybug's gaze flicks to Adrien's, and she wiggles her eyebrows from behind the mask, causing Adrien to snort obnoxiously. He slaps a hand over his mouth when the other three look at him, and Ladybug bites her gloved knuckles to stop from laughing too loud.

"What?" Rena and Cara ask in sync, looking between Adrien and Ladybug.

"Oh!" Queen B exclaims suddenly, abruptly standing up and looking down at her watch. "It's 11:45! The unmasking! The final dance! Agh!" She stumbles over the arm of her chair before brushing herself off and speed-walking away, the click of her heels following her.

The four still left sitting at the table watch her slim figure disappear behind the people beginning to stand up and make their way to the dance floor.

"Do you wanna...?" Carapace jabs his thumb at the dance floor behind them, flushing slightly as he stares at Rena.

"Sure!" Rena answers quickly, covering her mouth with her fist and coughing to try and cover up her excitement.

The two send quick waves at Ladybug and Adrien before scurrying off. Adrien looks at Ladybug the same time she looks at him, and they both burst out laughing.

"How obvious can they be?" Ladybug chides, shaking her head and smiling at her lap.

"I don't know," Adrien mutters, his chest constricting as the smile falls off his face.

Ladybug frowns and looks up at him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Adrien waves her off, "yeah. I'm good. Fine."  _Conflicted._

_Does she know that I'm Adrien?_

The thought hadn't occurred to him, and now that it has, it ebbs at him, picking at the corner of his brain until it quickly creates a gaping hole filled with questions.

_Does she care if I'm Adrien? Is she romantically interested? Who is she? Can I choose her over Marinette?_

The last thought jars him, and he bites his lip. His conscience laughs at him like he's a petulant child, and Adrien licks his lips.

_Marinette._

"Chat?"

Adrien nearly falls out of his chair.

Ladybug had migrated from two seats over to take Carapace's chair next to him. She waves a hand in front of his face. "Chat?"

"Sorry," he apologizes, blinking stupidly. "Just spaced. Wanna dance?" He nods at the dance floor.

Ladybug hesitates. "I know this sounds weird, but... I sort of promised someone I'd meet them. I also have a feeling that they really want to know who I am..."

Adrien raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

_She must be talking about me._

"Yeah...," Ladybug trails off, her cheeks coloring a gentle pink under the mask.

"Ooooh," Adrien drawls teasingly, waggling his eyebrows. "Someone has a crush."

Now Ladybug blushes crimson. "Shut up."

"Oooooooooh," Adrien laughs. "Tell me."

"No way! You'll think it's creepy." She looks away, discomfort written across her face.

"Bet," Adrien challenges.

Ladybug sends him a flat look before puffing out her cheeks. "I've been writing him love letters... as an anonymous girl going by the name Ladybug."

Adrien feigns surprise and takes this opportunity to question her motives. "Why anonymously?"

"Because...," she draws out the word, fidgeting, "I can't really...  _talk_  to him."

Adrien frowns. "What do you mean?"

"I mean my words get all mixed up around him!" she says quickly, looking around as if someone'll hear her. "I can barely say two words to him! We're good friends, but he seems completely oblivious to how I feel. Like, he's too busy thinking about someone else to even acknowledge my existence..."

Adrien's heart palpitates.

_I know her? She's my friend? Am I that blind?_

"Really?" Adrien forces out, trying not to sound like something inside of him is dying.

"Yeah," Ladybug continues sadly, seemingly unaware of Adrien's condition, "and I think he hates me now. Me as myself, anyway. Not me as Ladybug."

"What?" Adrien asks, spurred on by surprise. "Why do you think that?"

Ladybug groans. "I was doing so good, too! We were talking and having fun and being normal! And..." She puts her head in her gloved hands. "Never mind. It doesn't matter. I ruined everything as myself. If he knows who I am, he'll probably hate me."

Adrien blinks, more out of shock than the necessity of the action. "When did this happen?" he asks shakily, staring at her masked eyes that avoid meeting his.

"Today."

Adrien nearly falls out of his chair.

Again.

The day comes rushing back to him: the fitting, the lunch with Nino, his walk in the rain, running into—

"Marinette."

Ladybug perks up. "What'd you say?"

Adrien looks up from his folded hands and just stares at her. She cocks her head to the side, a confused droop pulling on her blush-pink lips.

"Chat?"

Adrien shakes his head, blinking frantically. "Sorry. Um,"—dear god, he can't stop staring at her—"want to dance?"

Ladybug blinks slowly before frowning. "Okay...?"

Adrien forces his stiff legs into motion and offers  _Marinette_ a hand. Her mask flickers in his mind, and he can clearly see her confused pout.

Ladybug takes his hand, slight amusement glittering in her bright eyes. "What?"

Adrien grins stupidly. "Nothing."

"What?" Ladybug asks again, her smile widening as Adrien leads her towards the dance floor.

He side-eyes her. "You wouldn't want to hear it anyway."

They stop, and he takes her other hand in his, letting the classical music guide his movements as he begins the steps to the waltz.

"Yes I would!" Ladybug insists quietly, curiosity burning in her eyes like a wildfire.

Adrien smirks as he twirls her back to him, ending up flush against her. "You're just perfect. That's all."

Ladybug's eyes widen in surprise. "Wha—you flirt." She rolls her eyes, a smile curving her lips.

"I'm serious," Adrien says, his flirty mood dropping as his heart begins to pound a bit harder. "You're perfect."

Ladybug suddenly seems very conflicted, her eyes darting away from his face only to dance back again.

"You shouldn't say that," she finally whispers, barely audible. "My heart already belongs to another."

"Does it?" Adrien teases, letting his voice fall into a slight lilt.

"Yes," Ladybug answers solemnly, not meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

A grand clock chimes across the room. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12...!

Adrien holds her close to himself, his breathing fanning her porcelain cheeks and long lashes. "Take off the mask, Ladybug."

Marinette makes no move to pull away, but the conflict burns strongly in her eyes. "I can't."

"Why not?"

Around them, cheers and whoops and noise of all sorts fill the grand room.

"I'm scared."

"You don't have to be scared of me."

Ladybug bites her lip and draws closer. "I'm betraying my feelings for him."

"No you're not."

"Aren't I?" she queries, frustration lacing her voice.

"I'll show you who I am if you show me who you are."

Her eyes flick down to his lips and back. "But I don't know you."

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Adrien asks quietly, his thumb brushing her cheek and trailing down to her jawline.

"Maybe," she murmurs, her eyelids drooping. "Maybe not."

His thumb brushes the bottom of her mask, and she shivers. "On three?"

Her nimble fingers gently trace themselves up his well-cut facial features until they brush the bottom of his mask, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "On three."

"One," Adrien says slowly, quietly.

"Two."

"Three."

Adrien gives a light tug, and the mask pops right off. Black blurs his vision for a moment, and the pressure of his mask disappears.

He stares down at her, and she gasps lightly, though she must have known who he is subconsciously.

"Marinette."

"Adrien."

With the barrier between them gone, Adrien dips down and captures her in a kiss. Just a peck. He pulls away, unsure, as his lips tingle from the quick sensation. Something darkens in Marinette's bright eyes, and she weaves her fingers together behind his neck and pulls him back down.

They meld together, smoldering like logs in a fire, fitting like pieces of the same puzzle, burning brighter and brighter with every passing moment.

Flint and steel, ocean and shore, yin and yang, they simply  _are_.

Adrien forgets about his need to breathe because he's become addicted to taste instead. The taste of her. The taste of this. The taste of fire, and passion, and unbridled  _love_.

Fireworks explode over his head, but he knows it must just be his imagination—considering the fact that they're inside.

Marinette pulls away and gasps for air, her cerulean eyes sparking with something different—something that makes Adrien feel weak at the knees.

"Your eyes—your smile—your freckles—your heart—your words—" With every feature he names, he kisses a different part of her face. "—your nose," he kisses her nose, "—your lips." He pecks her lips, and Marinette giggles under his attention. "Your everything."

Marinette's eyes glitter. "You're such a sap."

"Oh," Adrien holds a hand to his heart, " _I'm_  the sap. Right."

Marinette laughs, a happy, joyous sound. She twines her arms around his neck again, interlocking her fingers.  "I have something to confess."

Adrien raises his eyebrows, the smile remaining. "Do you now?"

"Mm," Marinette hums, going on her tiptoes and pecking his nose. "Maybe I'll tell you some day."

"Aw, c'mon, Mari!"

"Nope! That won't work on me!"

"Marinette! Tell me!"

"I will! Some day."

 

***   *   ***

 

**E P I L O G U E**

 

"This is sickening."

"Honestly."

"I can't believe I ever shipped them."

"I can't believe a teacher hasn't stopped them yet."

"'Course not. The teachers ship them, too!"

"Oh yeah."

"Get a room!" Alya shouts at her friends, whom are currently sucking each others' faces off under the stairwell of their high school.

"Gettin' some action, huh, Agreste?!" Nino shouts from his spot next to Alya, making a hip-thrusting motion.

"That's cute," Alya snorts, sarcasm dripping from her words.

Suddenly, Marinette twirls both herself Adrien so that he's now pressed against the wall. The heat between them is palpable, and Adrien grins.

"I love a girl that takes control."

Marinette grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him down so that they're nose to nose. "Damn straight." She holds him there for one final smothering kiss before releasing him and sashaying up to her best friend.

Alya cocks an eyebrow. "I need to take lessons from you."

Marinette laughs, back to her sweet demeanor. "I just know what he likes."

"You mean you?"

"Precisely."

Adrien stumbles into the spot next to Nino, a dumbstruck look on his face. He sits in shocked silence for a moment before lulling his head to the side to look at Nino.

"How does she do that?"

Nino chuckles, bobbing his head. "The hell if I know."

Adrien shakes his head again, his mouth falling open. "She's amazing."

"Ugh—she's your girlfriend, not mine," Nino grumbles, feigning gagging and shoving Adrien's shoulder in the process.

"Yeah...," Adrien trails off dreamily, "how did that happen again?"

"Well," Nino puffs his cheeks and lets the air out in a low whistle, "she's been in love with you for..." Nino pretends to count on his fingers. "Too long, dumb ass." He thwacks Adrien on the back of the head.

Adrien throws his hands up in the air. "How did I not know this?"

"Beats me."

"I guess it all started when I started getting letters from her."

"Letters from her, huh?"

"Yeah. Letters from her."

"How cheesy."

"Oh shut up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap! I hope you guys enjoyed that! Check out some of my other works for more material. :D
> 
> Xoxo, J.


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